Can a Wild Daisy Rejuvenate Croatia’s Farming Economy?

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Farmhands picking curry plants by hand, sometimes harvesting acres of land with small sickles or pruning shears.CreditCreditZoran Marinovic for The New York Times

By Joseph Orovic

Nov. 23, 2017

ZADAR, Croatia — For generations, residents of Zadar, an idyllic town on the Adriatic coast of Croatia, used the dry, stringy stems and yellow blossoms of a common variety of a wild daisy as kindling, mostly to singe the hair off pigs destined for the spit.

But about five years ago, cosmetics manufacturers and the essential oils industry started using a rare extract from the flower — known as the curry plant for its spicy aroma — as a critical ingredient in high-end creams, ointments and tinctures, sold for their purported rejuvenating powers.

So let the pigs shave themselves, local residents decided, turning their attention to gathering bushels of the once widely ignored weed, in hopes of creating a new local industry to add to an economy based on construction, fruit farming, olive oil and a touch of tourism.

So far they haven’t had too much success.

“I should start putting some of this stuff on my own face,” said Nino Simunic, 48, ignoring the bucolic vista of yachts and ferries crossing Zadar’s channel.

Instead, he scanned the harsh ground from atop his tractor, putt-putting across a moonlike limestone hillside, for any signs of a curry plant, also known as “immortelle” for its ability to survive in dry terrain and to remain alive long after being plucked.

In 2015, Mr. Simunic, a veteran of Croatia’s early-1990s war for independence, ended a tumultuous 15-year career in local politics and joined the ranks of residents seeking some sort of financial boost from the curry plant. A local monastery of Benedictine nuns became partners with him, providing the 12 acres of land he’s farming in exchange for a cut of revenues, he said. If there are any.

It’s Mr. Simunic’s first harvest, and he’s not saddled with any expectations.

“If it covers at least some of the fuel and lunch costs, I’m happy,” he said.

The search for profit from the curry plant is driven by Croatia’s continuing economic troubles. The global financial crisis was largely responsible for a six-year recession. And the country’s 2013 move to join the European Union brought competitively priced goods from elsewhere in the bloc onto store shelves, adding to the woes of the struggling agricultural and manufacturing sectors.

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The curry plant’s knack for thriving in botanically inhospitable areas earned it the nickname “immortelle.”CreditZoran Marinovic for The New York Times

These days, the nation of 4.2 million relies on a tourism boom, mainly on the Adriatic coast, with the summer season responsible for nearly a fifth of its economic output.

So farmers in inland regions and towns like Zadar are always on the lookout for a new avenue of cash.

That’s where immortelle — with the Latin name Helichrysum italicum — fits in.

The weed’s mass-market potential emerged at the turn of the century, when cosmetics companies like L’Occitane began patenting anti-aging formulas that included immortelle.

“The essential oils found within the flower help to improve the skin’s ability to fight the effects of environmental aggressions, which are known to accelerate skin aging,” said Lucy Primrose, the director of learning and organizational development for L’Occitane. The company’s line of immortelle-infused products has become “adored by our customers,” she said.

But the French cosmetics giant gets its immortelle from farms in Corsica. And so far Zadar’s farmers have had little luck creating a direct partnership with a cosmetics or essential oils company. Instead they sell their curry plant harvests in raw form to nearby distillers, who act as a bridge to manufacturers that have relationships with larger cosmetics firms.

Selling immortelle to distillers is somewhat profitable; the plant’s oil fetches up to 2,500 euros per kilogram, or about 1.15 liters.

Zadar’s immortelle farmers think the quantity and quality of their individual crops will become too great for the cosmetics industry to ignore. Their hope remains as resilient as the immortelle.

The black market is hopeful, too. During harvest season, the local news was filled with tales of the police discovering vans full of stolen curry plants.

In the first years after manufacturers took interest in the plant, many farmers tried to increase their crop output. But that involved watering and fertilization techniques that diluted the quality of the extracted oil.

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Nino Simunic harvesting a field of immortelle on his tractor.CreditZoran Marinovic for The New York Times

Distillers then lowered their offers for raw plants.

“This is a classic Croatian agriculture story, from success to failure,” said Mario Skelin, a local plant conservationist, who pointed to a distinct lack of unity among Zadar’s many curry plant farmers when negotiating with distillers and producers. “We haven’t gotten to the failure part yet.”

Mr. Skelin has tried to band farmers together to gain leverage when dealing with distillers. So far individualism has held sway, with farmers wanting to build their own distilleries.

“The problem is there is no industrial standard,” Mr. Skelin said, showing a picture of three test tubes containing immortelle extract — each a different shade of yellow. He said that many wholesale buyers priced oils without explaining their criteria or pricing decisions. “We need to do a better job of branding ourselves,” he said.

Some farmers are hedging their bets, investing in other oft-neglected plants.

Ivica Djurica, 62, had an accidental over-yield of his curry plants six years ago, with a surplus of 800,000 seedlings just as locals started looking to immortelle. Mr. Djurica sold his extra seedlings to ambitious local farmers, making him an unwitting cog in the curry plant’s local industry.

Now he and his wife, Mirna Djurica, 47, hope to expand their business, adding lavender, hyssop and other medicinal herbs to the property. The idea is a full-fledged essential oil and aromatherapy operation.

Arid, dusty soil crunched under her feet as she walked through a field while cicadas crackled from the bushes jutting out of the hill.

“A tough life is good for curry plants,” she said, heading back to a small stone bungalow at the end of the field. “And this is the life we wanted.”

The Djuricas have plans for an in-house distillery, which could then theoretically finance the creation of a full agri-tourism operation.

“We can’t only grow curry plants,” she said, just as a gust cut across the thick field of green and yellow, kicking up the immortelle’s deep, smokelike peppery smell.

A version of this article appears in print on , on Page A10 of the New York edition with the headline: Croatian Farmers’ Hopes of New Life Rest on a Weed Called Immortelle. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe